This feels pathetic. 20 years of age and I am searching for eternal love, combing through the masses for that special someone. And I have yet to find him, the man who would adore me for both who I am and who he perceives me to be. He, whom I would love so very much this lifetime, the next, and the next. And the very same one I could forsake the world for.
I want to be swept off my feet, feel the passion burning within, and the spark that sets off the adrenaline overdrive. To taste sweet happiness lying in his arms counting the stars at night, and watch him smile as he indulges in the same saccharine beatitude. Fifty years down the road, he will take my hand as we stroll down beaches, each of us still basking in the other's company.
To love and be loved and intoxicated with happy memories of both of us even as I lie on my deathbed. I want to leave life hoping to love him again, the next lifetime, and the next and the next, for eternity.
I just don't think I'm deserving enough for a godsend thus delightful, the glass barrier I have to contend with to make love a reality.